Some basics for those of you just now dropping in: My sister and I are on an 11-month Christian mission trip to 11 different countries across 4 continents. We’re headed to: Argentina, Bolivia, Chile, Uganda, Ethiopia, Rwanda, Serbia, Bulgaria, Romania, Cambodia, and Thailand. The work will range from country to country in partnership with established ministries in each area.
It’s month 5. My team is in Bangkok, Thailand.
We’re teaching workshops at an English Center.
It’s taken me a while to write this blog. There are some things about my month here in Thailand that I’m reluctant to say.
I’d like to get the hard stuff out of the way right now. Let me paint you a picture.
I have excellent WiFi. I’m drinking a hot cup of coffee at the dinner table. My hair is wet from a warm shower in our blue-tiled bathroom, a shower I took after swimming my morning laps in the saltwater pool downstairs. The air is cool and smells like lavender, peppermint, and lemon. The combo is a favorite of my teammate who has taken over the diffuser. Our scene is scored by the gentle hum of a washing machine.
This has been my life here in Bangkok. My name is Sarah Landsman. I’m on the World Race. And I have a washing machine.
Why has this been so hard for me to admit?
Matthew 6:16 says “when you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to others that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.”
Hypocrite is a hard-hitting word. If you grew up Christian, it’s probably a trigger word for you. And as much as I’d like to distance myself from the label, I have to say that I can empathize. On the World Race, the temptation is to blog about only the hard stuff. I want to describe the smell of our pig farm and the ache of work weary muscles. I want to complain about homesickness and sleeping on hard grounds. In short, I want to be like the hypocrites. I want to show the entire world I am fasting.
There are a lot of reasons why. There’s the YouTube video that referred to the World Race as a “church sponsored sightseeing tour.” There’s the women who asked me just how much I thought I could accomplish in one month. She had gone on a two week trip to Mexico and seen first-hand “just how pointless those little trips are.” There’s the well intentioned advice from a family member not to post “too much of the pretty pictures.”
There’s the crushing weight of 18,017 dollars, each one demanding me to prove that they were well invested. Prove to us, they say, that this year is of God. Don’t waste us. I have this nightmare that my supporters show up and demand their money back. “Show us the list of salvations!” They say. “Let’s see those callused hands! Give me calluses or give me money back!” I know. Whoever writes the dialogue in my nightmares should pursue another career.
And there’s all of you at home praying for me. I know that you are. I’m so grateful that you are. I know that my Mamaw worries every single day. And I want every single one of those worries to be worth her while.
Ultimately, there’s my pride- calculating, cold, obstructive, doing all it can to protect itself.
I am a hypocrite. I would never put oil on my head or wash my face during a fast. I would not admit to all of you that I have a washing machine. I need to be congratulated on my sacrifice. How sick.
My God is good. My God blesses. He withholds no good thing from those who walk uprightly. He gives us heaven’s dew and earth’s richness- an abundance of grain and new wine. Of course he is going to bless me. It’s who he is. He’s going to bless me abundantly, without end, until the day I die and forever ever-after. I am his daughter whom he loves. I am his daughter whom he loves. He loves me, and he is God. This washing machine is the least of his blessings.
It’s wrong for me to pretend that my year is all bug bites, blisters, and sleeping in tents. (In all reality, I haven’t even used my tent yet.) Not only does this way of presenting the Race puff up my pharisaic pride, it deprives the Lord of glory.
Because he has blessed me for his glory. Isaiah 48:11 says “for my own sake, for my own sake, I do this. How can I let myself be defamed? I will not yield my glory to another.” If God chooses to reveal his gracious goodness in the form of a washing machine and swimming pool, then daggum it, I had better shout it from the rooftops. That washing machine should be on my Instagram story every single day.
Our earthly blessings tell the world that the Father loves his children. They are given to us so that we can tell the story of his goodness. On pig farms and in lux condos, he will be glorified.
So.
This has been my life here in Bangkok. My name is Sarah Landsman. I’m on the World Race. And I have a washing machine.
I have a washing machine, and to God be the glory.
